“I believe so,” Inga says, not looking especially worried about it.
I struggle with myself. Again, I’m dying to ask about her relationship with Kai. I’ve never been good at holding my questions and opinions inside.
To my relief, at that moment, we’re interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. We all look up at once to see Runa standing at the edge of the clearing. She freezes when she spots us, her shoulders tensing in the same way mine probably did when I first stumbled upon this occupied spring.
I lift my hand in a small wave. Runa’s eyes widen, and without a moment’s hesitation, she spins on her heel and disappears back into the trees.
I sigh. “That woman hates me.”
Inga shoots me a meaningful glance and presses her fingers to her lips. I raise my eyebrows. Runa is nearly fifty yards away, and they think she can still hear us? If so, the wolves hearing is considerably better than I realized.
Liv waits another minute until Runa is out of sight, then leans over to Inga and whispers under her breath. “Why isn’t she out in the field?”
Inga barely moves her lips, when she whispers back. “Pregnant?”
“For her sake I hope not,” Liv says, and they exchange meaningful looks.
“Is pregnancy the only reason any of you would miss training?” I ask. “What if you were hurt?”
“What about it?” Liv asks, not unkindly.
“Like, Kai—er, the alpha—he didn’t train right after he burned his face.”
Liv grimaces. “Of course he did. We’ll risk ourselves, just not the children.”
Again, she and Inga share a meaningful look, and I assume they might have slipped back into silent communication again.
“I doubt Runa hates you,” Liv says abruptly. “She really isn’t that bad if you get to know her.”
“So it’s the magic, then?” I say gloomily.
“No…” Inga muses. “I doubt that’s it either. I think she thinksyouhateher.”
“Why would I?” I ask
I brace myself, expecting Inga to say that Runa and Fox had a relationship at some point—that’s the conclusion I’ve come to anyway. In which case, I probably wouldn’t hate her…not exactly. It’s not like I’d have any right to.
I am not expecting Inga to say, “Well, it’s sort of because of her that your mate got sent to Dyaspora…I think it would be understandable if you resented her a little, even though it obviously wasn’t her fault.”
I look up sharply. “What?”
Inga looks taken aback. “Wait, you don’t know?”
Damnit. I have no idea what she’s talking about, but if we were really mates, surely Fox would have told me. If I say I don’t know what she means it will look incredibly suspicious.
“I know what happened, I just didn’t realize it was Runa,” I invent wildly.
To my relief, Inga looks like that makes sense. “Ah, well, that’s her. She probably thinks you despise her, but if you showed that you don’t blame her for it then I think she would warm up.”
I have no idea if I would blame Runa for what happened because I don’tknowwhat happened. I’ll have to ask Fox later.
Still, I smile and nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
My questions for Fox remain unanswered as he fails to return—not just for the first night, but the second as well.
One night away seemed reasonable, but two? On the second night I toss in the empty bed, telling myself it’s merely that I’m anxious to be left alone in the unfamiliar camp which is keeping me awake, not the absence of his warmth beside me.
By the morning of the third day, worry is truly gnawing at me.
